


Winter Winds

by Dance_Elle_Dance



Category: Infernal Devices Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst, Book 2: Clockwork Prince, Drama, F/M, Romance, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 08:24:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4997683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dance_Elle_Dance/pseuds/Dance_Elle_Dance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He misses being the one to bring patches of color to her cheeks, misses the way he could always draw her smiles. But mostly, Jem misses being the one she loved. (Originally posted on 2/21/12.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter Winds

**Author's Note:**

> Re-post. This time it's JemSophie, from Jem's perspective. I really love these two and was pretty sad they didn't get together - although it was obvious because of how Jem was with Tessa. But, hey, what can I say? I'm drawn to doomed ships.

The bitter cold of the London winter is almost enough to bring Jem Carstairs to his knees.

He fights it, though, just because he enjoys the cold. Sure, he's weaker than most, having to take more breaks as he walks about the Institute's grounds, but this time of year brings pleasure to him. The colder weather brings a much-needed relief to his overheated skin, and that is a gift in and of itself.

Jem sits outside in the cold, a specter to the events around him. He lives for the days like this, when he gets up and is able to just _be_. He misses the company of Tessa at his side, but he finds that his attention is elsewhere occupied.

A tiny figure, far away from him, scrapes the lingering ice from the walkway. She is close enough that he can make her out clearly - soft brown hair pulled into a tail at the nape of her neck, slender frame, her maid clothes bunched in one hand as she shovels with the other. He can see that she shivers as she works, the coat she wears clearly not enough to help her in that department.

_Sophie,_ he thinks fondly - a bit too fondly, if he is honest with himself.

He can make out the clouds of her breath, fogging out in front of her, as she works determinedly. Jem is momentarily confused. Usually Cyril was the one to do the work outside the house, but to have Sophie do it? The very notion baffled him. Perhaps Cyril was sick, perhaps…

A sound, coming from one of the side doors opening. Sophie doesn't hear, continues working. Jem watches as Gideon Lightwood appears, walking over to her in long, confident strides, the sounds of his movement lost within the blanket of snow.

In a slight movement, Gideon strokes a singular finger down the back of her neck. Sophie tenses and turns around, gripping the shovel a bit tighter as she turns, as if to wield it as a weapon if necessary. Jem smiles at her fire.

Upon seeing the Lightwood boy, Sophie's face breaks into a relieved smile as Gideon's deep laugh breaks the silence, followed by her own, the tinkling of bells and a deep baritone melding together to create a strangely beautiful sound.

Jem watches.

He has no choice but to, to be frank. He finds that he cannot possibly look away from the scene that has presented itself to him. He watches as Gideon's whole face changes when he looks at Sophie, watches how she looses that tenseness of her shoulders when she talks. Jem stares as she smiles and laughs at something the other man said.

He feels… _something_. A sense of loss. A sense of great and utter loss.

And he isn't particularly sure _why_ he feels this way. The only thing he knows for sure is that he _does_. He does and he isn't too fond of the feeling.

Jem is able to watch the moment in which Gideon leans forward and brushes a stray piece of hair from Sophie's flushed cheeks - _not just from the cold,_ he reminds himself - and how his fingers linger over her scar, brushing tenderly there. How she shivers in response - _not from the cold,_ he tells himself, again. Again and again and again.

He tries not to think that _he_ wanted to touch her there, to let his fingers trace over her greatest insecurity and tell her that he _loves_ her for it. He tries not to think that she used to smile at _him_ like that, and that she used to say his name like the breathiest of sighs.

Jem forces it from his mind.

He has to.

He watches as Gideon presses his lips to the crown of Sophie's head in a gesture so tender it makes Jem's heart feel as if it is rending from his own chest.

But benevolence has always been Jem's greatest quality, so he focuses on something else.

Even as the scene is playing out in front of him, Jem thinks of the good things of it. He is happy that Sophie has found someone, and that he loves he as much as she deserves to be loved. He is happy that they are happy. He _must_ be happy that they are happy.

He tries no to think of Sophie, and what could have been, because he has other things that he needs to occupy himself with - the wedding, being at the forefront of his mind.

But her face, lovely and blushing just for him, is torturing him.

He fingers the ornate carvings on his cane as he watches, and waits. For what, he isn't certain, but he hopes it is for the pain in his chest to stop.

Sophie's laugh assaults his ears once more as another voice makes its presence known.

"They suit each other, don't you think?"

Jem should have heard her coming, but he was so intent on the scene in front of him that she had gone completely unnoticed. Her voice causes his fragile heart to skip a beat and that just confuses him even more. He turns and is presented with the lovely creature that is Tessa Gray, his betrothed.

She gives him a heavenly smile and moves to sit on the bench near him. "Aren't you cold?"

He shakes his head slightly and offers a smile. "No, I am quite alright."

Tessa stares at him for a moment, her intelligent eyes seeming to see right through him. After a moment, she smiles back. She says nothing, which is just the right course of action. She always seems to know the right thing to do, and that is something Jem greatly loves about her.

_Loves._

Tessa slips her gloved hand into his, letting their fingers twine together as Jem watches the scene in front of him.

With Tessa's hand so warm in his and Sophie's smile so warm for someone else, Jem feels more confused than he had in the longest time.

_But I am happy,_ he tells himself as he presses a kiss to Tessa's cheek. _And so is Sophie._

And Sophie's happiness is all that he really wants.


End file.
